


The Homecomer

by i_am_a_hog



Series: Terror Fix It [2]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Character Study, Chronic incapability to write actual plot, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff without Plot, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, anyway... enjoy the Utter Softness of this, fix it for my life i guess. gotta make sure the characters i love are ok when I'm not doing well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_a_hog/pseuds/i_am_a_hog
Summary: I wanted to write the softest Fitzier thing in existence and idk if I pulled that off, but it IS exceedingly soft.-Can be read as a sequel toAll Wellbut works as a stand-alone as well.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Series: Terror Fix It [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717627
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86
Collections: All Well: The Terror April 2020 Fest





	The Homecomer

**Author's Note:**

> Title is (from) [The Homecomer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4cgtCt08gA) by my fav band, which I listened to and...
> 
> The Homecomer  
> With a sun-tan  
> Touches his own face  
> With the hands of a man  
> Somethings has changed  
> He's not the same
> 
> ... yeah!
> 
> Enjoy :)

Arriving in London had been worse than Francis had expected. Getting used to the bustle of the city and the constant company he and the other survivors were subjected to, turned out to be a challenge he was not at all prepared for. He would have liked to spend his days in solitude and his nights curled up with James.

Instead he had neither of those things; if the admiralty was not demanding his attendance to meetings and briefings, including his own court martial, the high society of London was sure to request him at a different dinner each night. Francis knew, that there was no way he could possibly avoid all those functions, so he made an effort to present himself at those events, he knew James to attend as well.

Seeing James was one of the few upsides of his continuous stay in London. Francis had had no trouble finding lodgings in a flat, that he felt was too big but was apparently deemed appropriate for a man of his position. Yet, the fact that James had stayed in a guest room after one or the other dinner, was doing an alarmingly good job at convincing Francis, that it was worth it.

Francis found that the mere presence of James in the next room made him sleep more easily. A part of him was still trying to convince him that it was merely a matter of wanting to care for the men he had gotten through so much. A decidedly larger part of him knew that his feelings for James were special, different from the way he felt about the rest of his crew. Of course, he was glad for each one that had managed to set foot on English soil again, but after some weeks or months, they had all moved on.

James lingered.

He seemed to be staying within Francis’ reach by design, tempting him into a risky, difficult situation, but Francis found that he did not mind. Seeing James recover – from the starving, scurvy-flayed creature back to the handsomest man in the Navy – was magical. With each week that passed, James’ steps became more sure, abandoning the cane he had to walk with upon their return, mere days after. His posture changed as his wounds healed and most importantly, his smile returned.

Francis had not even been aware of how much he had missed that smile – cocky and just on the wrong side of annoying to an inebriated Francis, riddled by jealousy and regret. Yet, the first time James had smiled, really smiled with his eyes crinkling and the lines in his face deepening with joy, something had broken inside of Francis.

He had only witnessed this across a dinner table, without a way to articulate his feelings or admiring James as he deserved, but Francis knew, that he would attempt to coax this smile from James as often as he possibly could.

* * *

Another night, another party, and another occasion of too much alcohol consumed by nearly everyone, except Francis. He tended to feel left out, going in search of a balcony or a similar quiet space to clear his head and take a break from company.

As Francis deeply inhaled the cool evening air, leaning back against the elaborately decorated balustrade of the balcony, he briefly closed his eyes. From within the building he could hear the lavish party, the voices, laughter, and faint music. Only a few minutes ago, Francis had caught himself so deeply enraptured by one of James’ stories, that he had forgone his frown and an honest smile had snuck across his lips. It had seemed like a good time to excuse himself to catch a bit of fresh air.

He turned around, leaning his forearms on the cool stone and looked out across the garden. For a moment, his life was peacefully quiet, tranquil, and Francis was sure he had never known the true value of a mind at peace until their return. Before, he had always been chasing something or the other, most recently Sophia Cracroft. Now, his mind was happily unoccupied by such thoughts, the image of James’ winning smile to his audience still before his inner eye.

Behind Francis, the door to the balcony opened again. A few light but secure steps, that Francis would recognise anywhere. James came to a halt next to him, looking straight ahead, leaning on the balustrade, his pose mirroring Francis. The silence between them was comfortable. There had once been a time where this – a space intruded upon by James Fitzjames – would have been Francis’ worst fear, but now he welcomed it. Welcomed him.

“James,” he started, only to find he had nothing to say.

“Francis.”

There was a colour to his name, when James spoke. Francis could not put his finger to it, but whenever he picked up on it, his heart had the audacity to speed up indecently.

“I assume you won’t stay much longer,” James continued when Francis remained silent.

He nodded in reply, having no desire to stay at the event any longer than he needed to, and he highly doubted that anybody would miss him. He turned towards James, silent understanding when their eyes met. Francis felt his heart constrict with something deep and craving at that. Something he knew had been building within him for weeks and months, if not years. Something that roared with triumph when he managed to keep away James’ night terrors and that purred whenever James looked at him with a certain twinkle in his dark eyes. His answer came slightly breathless, when he managed to utter it.

“Come home with me.”

At his words, James smiled and Francis’ heart bloomed within his chest, came alive with the knowledge that it was him who made James smile. It was honest and beautiful, not close-lipped like James was used to when in company. Francis caught a glint of a golden tooth.

“Yes.”

They remained on the balcony for several more minutes, before heading back inside and saying their good-byes.

On the cab ride to Francis’ flat, he dared not look at James, feeling the gaze under his skin and he feared he might reveal something better left unsaid if he met it equally. Instead, he kept his eyes forward and fidgeted with his keys in the pocket of his coat.

“Francis,” James started, hand reaching out for his forearm, settling there, warm and steady. “I can go home if you would rather I leave you alone tonight.”

His voice was soft, words considerate and Francis had to swallow around the sudden thought that arose in him at the sheer amount of tenderness James radiated.

_You are too good for me._

Instead, he forced himself to give a sensible answer.

“Nonsense, James. I’d like nothing better than having you close.” Francis felt like he had said too much already, and perhaps he had. James remained silent, but his hand stayed on Francis’ arm.

* * *

As soon as Francis had pulled the door of his flat shut behind them, James took off his coat and hat, neatly putting them on the coat rack. Francis followed suit, then halted when he saw James hold out a hand to him.

With the hesitancy and coyness of a schoolgirl, that was wholly unbecoming of a Captain of the Navy, he took it. Francis could not meet James’ eyes, not yet, not when he was unspeakably afraid of what he might find in them, so he let himself be pulled closer, slowly and silently.

When only mere inches separated them, James stopped and raised his other hand to Francis’ chin, tipping his head up, so that Francis had to look up at him. The dark pools of James’ eyes nearly moved Francis to tears, his heart weighed heavy with undeclared emotions and he hoped they shone from his eyes as clearly as James’.

“Come here,” James muttered, and Francis stepped in closer, wrapping an arm around James’ middle, sinking into the offered embrace. They remained like this for several minutes – just holding on to one another until Francis felt a kiss pressed to his greying temple. He pulled back minutely.

“What –“

“You looked like you needed it,” James said and shrugged lightly.

That might explain the hug but not the kiss, Francis thought as he lifted a hand to trace his fingertips over where James lips had lingered seconds before.

“But –“ he started again, silenced when James squeezed his hand lightly.

“I’ve felt you kiss my hair before. You came to me for night terrors and such, comforting me, thinking perhaps I wouldn’t notice. Don’t pretend otherwise.” He paused, before carefully continuing. “If this is not something you want, I’ll leave and we will never speak of it again.”

James’ tone was steady, not at all what Francis would have sounded like if he was the one making such a proposition. He was glad, that it was James who had taken initiative here.

“No,” he replied. “You’re right. But are you sure?”

James nodded. Before Francis could reconsider, he closed his eyes and moved forward. Their lips barely brushed together, and it already felt like the most intimate situation Francis had ever encountered. James was a warm presence that Francis found himself almost inexplicably drawn to. He was bringing his hand back up to Francis’ chin, steadying him before their lips met again, softly. Francis let his hand settle at the nape of James’ neck, feeling the soft hair between his fingers, as he leaned into the kiss. Then another. And another.

Eventually, James pulled back, tension released from his body, as he almost slumped against Francis.

“What is it?”

“Tired,” James replied softly.

Francis chuckled when James buried his face in his neck and hugged him close.

“Let’s get you to bed then.”

* * *

Sharing a bed with James, a real bed, comfortably big enough for both of them, was good, simply put. In more elaborate terms, it was relieving to know James so close, out of harm’s way, safe and content. With a hand in James’ hair, Francis pressed a kiss to his temple, mirroring James’ earlier action, then one to his cheekbone, jaw, the corner of his mouth, at which point James turned his head and pulled him into a kiss.

It was intoxicating.

Francis let his hands wander across James’ torso, feeling the ridges of scars from years of hard work and the occasional battle on his rising and falling chest. When his fingertips reached the famed musket ball scar at James’ side, he made a noise and Francis pulled back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing. Doesn’t hurt,” James quickly reassured him. “It’s just sensitive.” He turned onto his side to demonstrate his point.

Francis let his fingertips trace the edges of the scar tissue.

“May I?”

James nodded his consent and Francis moved closer, kissing along James’ neck, down his chest, ghosted his lips over the tender skin, hearing James sigh softly above him.

For a moment, he stilled, pressing his ear against the warm flesh, listening to James’ breaths and the steady beat of his heart. Arms tightened around his shoulders as James took a deep breath.

“Francis,” he started softly, letting the name flow from his lips in a way only James knew. “Will you stay?”

There was a tremble in his voice, that made Francis want to lift his head and meet James’ gaze, but the younger man was staring at the ceiling instead.

“Yes.”

James gave a jerked nod.

“It gets bad. Night terrors. Sometimes I can’t get up in the mornings. I am wrecked.”

“You make it look so easy,” Francis mumbled against James’ collarbone.

“It’s all pretence. I’ve done it my whole life. And the people haven’t changed. I know what works and I deliver but I don’t mean it, Francis. I can’t do this for the rest of my life.”

Francis shuffled their blankets around them cosily, pulled James even closer, tangling their legs together. The way James clung to him almost desperately made him ache.

“I’m weak. I hurt, and my thoughts never leave me alone.”

The pain in his voice sent Francis into a state of protectiveness.

“Shh,” he made, carding his fingers through James’ hair, a calming, reassuring gesture. “We can work out something, I’m sure, James. You’re strong, so strong and I –“

_And I’m glad to be with you always._

_And I wish I could take your pain away._

_And I hate seeing you hurt like this._

_And I love you._

Francis found no words he could get out.

“Me too,” James said quietly.

He had closed his eyes, and lying there on the white sheets, he looked angelic and peaceful despite the turmoil within. Where he had once insisted _I’m not Christ_ , Francis found it hard to agree to that now; he could see a heavenly presence, a body marked by miracles and a mind carrying the weight of the world.

He leaned up to press his lips against James’ cheek, once against his temple, fingertips tracing his brows. James sighed softly and Francis kissed both his eyelids, before pulling him against his chest.

“Sleep now,” he mumbled into James’ hair.

In response, he entangled their fingers on his chest, so Francis could feel his heartbeat. Maybe his hopes were not in vain after all; to live a quiet life by day and curl up to James at night.

Breathing in James’ scent, he drifted off into sleep as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Blease consider to kudo and comment! It literally makes my life. <3


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